Intro || Obedience || Aphrodisiacs
Grunting, Murphy stirred his legs, hazily realizing that he had once again slept in an awkward position in some small couch of the hotel. What was it with this fucking place? The forced sex and drugs weren't enough? Was he going to wake up on fucking small uncomfortable couches every fucking time?
Sitting up, he stirred as he took a look around, kicking a couple of empty beer bottles that were stacked around in the process. Well, that explained why he had fallen asleep in the middle of a hallway, didn't it?
Next thing Murphy took care of was checking what was that tight thing attached to his neck that had been bothering him since he first realised he was awake.
At first it was a slight nuisance, but then memories of what he had experienced in the hotel the last couple of days since he and Connor had arrived hit him. Quickly getting to his feet, he stumbled his way to a framed painting on the wall, craning his neck to look properly at his reflection on the glass. Like he expected, he found a thick black collar fastened around his neck, the tattoo of the Virgin Mary barely visible under the thick leather. The very same collar he had seen his best friend wear against his own will. The same piece of shit that had forced Rocco to follow each and every of Murphy's orders.
"Fucking Hell."
Hurrying to fetch his coat, he put the thing on to try and cover up his neck the best he could. For all he had heard about the place, it was full with perverts and even more perverted drugs in the air. He decided the best approach was to go hide in his room. Yes, hide. He didn't give a shit if it sounded like a pussy thing to do. He still had booze in there and a nice bed he still looked forward to getting used to. The last thing he needed was anyone seeing him wearing some fucking BDSM gear.
(ooc: Say hi to Murphy MacManus from The Boondock Saints! Anyone's welcome to come and have some fun with him, anything is cool except scat of maiming/killing.)
Sitting up, he stirred as he took a look around, kicking a couple of empty beer bottles that were stacked around in the process. Well, that explained why he had fallen asleep in the middle of a hallway, didn't it?
Next thing Murphy took care of was checking what was that tight thing attached to his neck that had been bothering him since he first realised he was awake.
At first it was a slight nuisance, but then memories of what he had experienced in the hotel the last couple of days since he and Connor had arrived hit him. Quickly getting to his feet, he stumbled his way to a framed painting on the wall, craning his neck to look properly at his reflection on the glass. Like he expected, he found a thick black collar fastened around his neck, the tattoo of the Virgin Mary barely visible under the thick leather. The very same collar he had seen his best friend wear against his own will. The same piece of shit that had forced Rocco to follow each and every of Murphy's orders.
"Fucking Hell."
Hurrying to fetch his coat, he put the thing on to try and cover up his neck the best he could. For all he had heard about the place, it was full with perverts and even more perverted drugs in the air. He decided the best approach was to go hide in his room. Yes, hide. He didn't give a shit if it sounded like a pussy thing to do. He still had booze in there and a nice bed he still looked forward to getting used to. The last thing he needed was anyone seeing him wearing some fucking BDSM gear.
(ooc: Say hi to Murphy MacManus from The Boondock Saints! Anyone's welcome to come and have some fun with him, anything is cool except scat of maiming/killing.)